Dead Man
by Akpaley
Summary: Loki is spotted again in Midgard badly injured and is picked up by the Avengers, and after dealing with his physical injuries, some of them begin to find out about his mental ones. Loki mindplay and dream games. Lots of feels later on.
1. Arrow

1. Arrow

A/N: So this is my first avenger fic and it's a bit of an experiment. Can't say for certain it will be any good, but I'm trying.  
Loki-centric.

* * *

When Loki appears injured on a security feed of the streets around Stark Tower, Clint knows that whatever it is Thor did wasn't good enough, because somehow the Liesmith is back, and Thor is not. He doesn't report the god's location. If he did they might try to stop him. He just slips away quietly and alone, because he has a score to settle, and if nobody knows the encounter ever happened he won't need to have mercy. He doesn't think Loki deserves mercy. So when Clint Barton disappears from Stark Tower, nobody realizes he's gone.

The god doesn't notice him until its too late, and in his current state he can't dodge the arrow, so he doesn't take long to drop. Barton uses a poison that he knows will hurt like bloody hell, and Loki doesn't even try to protect himself until he realizes the arrow is lodged in his gut. His eyes widen in shock and he pulls the arrow out of his side, grimacing in pain. He doesn't know the damage is already done. Or maybe he does, because there's one thing Barton didn't count on.

Loki drags himself to a pay phone and dials a number before blacking out on the pavement, and minutes later when he hears the ambulance coming, Barton decides that putting a supervillain in a civilian hospital is even worse then revealing his activities to SHIELD and allowing for the possibility of the god's survival. He curses and spirits away the dying Asgardian. Loki will pay, but he won't do it where he can hurt more people.

xxx

Fury is not thrilled by the news that Loki is injured in a medical bay instead of bound and gagged up in Asgard with Thor. Bruce will agree with the man at this point. He would much rather be doing experiments then trying to heal an enemy, especially when the process of healing said enemy requires time consuming research. The god seems to be in almost constant pain, and is usually asleep though he has awoken briefly twice. He hasn't been very coherent either time. There seems to be something in his blood that Is causing him harm, but seeing as Bruce doesn't know what god blood is supposed to be composed of in the first place, he is having hard time identifying the cause.

Clint shows up on the third week and gives Bruce an antidote for Loki. He admits to his actions and now that Loki is in no danger of dying there's very little point in letting the poison remain. Bruce agrees not to tell Fury, after all he has a hard time disagreeing with Clint's decision to attempt to kill the god.

After the antidote is found, Loki begins to heal faster. In two days he wakes again briefly, but after that he sleeps for almost a week before waking again, for real this time.

Loki awakes to a bemused Tony Stark and a distracted Bruce Banner talking nearby. He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to block out the sounds. His entire body feels utterly drained of both energy and magic, and it's not a pleasant thing. He takes a deep breath and tries to sit up before falling back onto the bed, gritting his teeth to keep himself from crying out in pain. It feels like his side is on fire, and he lightly touches the area with his hand, feeling the rough bandages.

It seems Loki won't be moving anytime soon, so he takes stock of his surroundings. There is a thin tube in his arm, connected to a stand with a bag of liquid that looks about half full. The room is lit with very white lights and feels very sterile. The voices of the two scientists can be heard from somewhere to his left, but aren't loud enough for him to make out the words from here. He stares at the ceiling for a while listening to their voices. Eventually he drifts into a deep sleep.

xxx

When Loki awakes again it's dark. So dark he doesn't notice the presence of another man until the words begin to pierce his consciousness. The voice is quiet, icy, and slow, and the words drip like poison from the man's tongue.  
"Good. You're awake." It takes the god of mischief a moment to place the voice. When he does, it takes a considerable amount of effort to make his laugh one of dark amusement instead of fear.  
"Barton. Good to see you again," he says smoothly, smiling slightly.  
"I can't say I agree." The spy's footsteps can be heard now, slow and echoing as they approach his bed. Now Loki can see the shadow standing over him. "I'm here to tell you don't try anything," Clint says, his words becoming slower, more deliberate, "because I would be more then happy to put an arrow in your eye."  
Loki's smile widens momentarily. "Enjoying it aren't you? Your power over me."  
Clint glances to the side for a moment and strokes his chin in mock thought. "Uh, yes."  
"You want me to listen. To obey." Clint nods slightly as Loki speaks, glaring. The smile plastered on Loki's face turns downright evil. "To kneel."  
The agent freezes, then recoils as if struck. He doesn't try to defend himself or contradict the god, in fact he is completely silent for what feels like a full minute though its more like a few seconds in truth. Then his face hardens again.

"We're more similar then you thought, aren't we," Loki comments as Barton slowly backs out of the room. "Funny how reversed roles can show that." At this, Barton stops and turns back toward the doorway.  
"Have I tried to get into your head and control you?"  
"If you had the power, you'd do it in a heartbeat."

* * *

Reviews help power motivation. Feel free to leave one if you have any comments, good or bad. :)

TBC


	2. Thread

2. Thread

A/N: Thanks people for the reviews and follows. I appreciate it, really. On a separate note, I don't have any predetermined wordcount or length or anything, so they will probably vary a bit. There's no defined update schedule either but I post them when I have the first section of the next chapter finished. I'll probably make some comment in the end Authors Note about how the next chapter is coming if you people would like that. Okay, done rambling. Story now.

* * *

Natasha Romanov follows orders. She is a soldier, almost as much as Steve is. A different kind, yes, but a soldier nonetheless. She has been ordered to learn things about Loki's arrival, and the fact that she is the one being asked means that she will have to pay the god a visit. So when the Black Widow enters his room, it's definitely not because she wants to be there.

She can see Loki laying flat on the hospital bed, and knows he is awake. His breathing isn't nearly calm enough for him to be asleep, even if his eyes are closed. She makes a small sound in her throat to announce her presence, then quietly waits for him to acknowledge it.

He does not keep her waiting long. His eyes open, a clear grey in this light, and trace the lines on the ceiling before finding their way to her face. He meets her eyes evenly with an almost predatory smile, which is funny since he is in no position to hurt anyone, much less her.  
"Come to spar with me again? Last time was quite... interesting."  
She keeps her face blank and cold, the way it usually is. "I came to ask if you were enjoying your accommodations." Loki lets out a sharp laugh.  
"Of course, my lady. I love being confined to small chambers."  
"Do you." At first the questions would be of no consequence. That way they won't notice when you ask the important ones.  
"And everyone picks up on it too, so they keep putting me in such places." His voice was laced with sarcasm. "It is truly a wonderful life I lead."

xxx

Natasha asks him questions most days for the rest of the week, and Loki always replies with biting sarcasm and utter hostility. He doesn't give up anything besides his general dislike of her, the hospital, and the Avengers, tempered by a form of dry respect that must stem from his awareness that they have power over his well being. Others come in and talk to him occasionally. Steve brings the god breakfast pastries once in hopes of some resulting goodwill, but Loki just laughs at him, leaving him discouraged and annoyed.

Bruce is subjected to the least verbal torment of the bunch. Loki is eerily silent when he enters the room and allows him to do whatever he needs to without anything but a glare. Natasha receives the most, but she takes the harassment calmly and continues the conversations civilly, hoping he will say something of use. Unfortunately he seems to have learned from their first encounter and cuts her off anytime she starts driving their talks towards anything potentially meaningful.  
Surprisingly, it's Tony who makes the first breakthrough on the information front on a late Thursday night six days later.

xxx

Loki is sitting in the hospital bed with a glass of orange juice, which the hospital staff seem intent on serving him at every meal. He doesn't object to the drink, but he would prefer simple water. There's a now empty plate on the small table to his left that had contained something labeled jell-o that tasted like straight sugar, a salad of leaves that did not exist on Asgard, and some sort of meat. So now he sits alone in the hospital bed fiddling with the glass of orange liquid between his finger tips and playing a game in which he locates every security camera in the room and glares at each of them in turn. He feels far better then he did a week ago. The pain in his side has faded to a dull ache, and his veins no longer feel like fire. The medical staff has also attended to his other injuries, a broken leg, a fractured wrist, and various cuts and scrapes some of which went deep enough to show bone before they were treated. He is thankful for it, even if he won't tell them so. With magical healing out of the question, they probably saved his life, which means he owes them. He decides not to think too hard about that little fact.

He's pondering throwing the glass at one of the security cameras just to scare whomever is watching him when Tony Stark enters the room with a glass of some golden brown liquid which smells quite a lot like alcohol. Loki's eyes travel lazily across the room to the approaching mortal, a look of boredom evident on his face. Tony for his part looks annoyed as he paces before the injured god.  
"You're a shitty prisoner to have, you know?" Loki can't help but smile at the man's complaint. "I was going to take a vacation before you showed up. Actually," he adds with a look of mock thoughtfulness, "I took a vacation anyway. But I had to cut it shorter then I wanted. And now I have to listen to Fury talking about diplomatic shit with Asgard and really you've just kind of ruined my week." Tony takes a sip of the liquid in his glass then swirls the liquid around a bit. He waits for Loki to speak. When Loki says nothing, Tony prompts him with a "How's your week been?" and takes an easy seat on the side of the next bed over.  
"I've spent my week trapped in a small room in pain with fools for company," Loki replies drily. "It has certainly been no better then your own."  
"You deserve it," Tony offers.  
"I suspect so do you." Tony replies with a one sided smile and takes another sip of his drink. Loki decides against throwing his juice at a wall, but decides to keep it just in case he needs to throw it at Tony Stark's head.

"So," says Tony after a long awkward pause, "You're causing real problems for Fury. Or at least I assume so because he hasn't shut up about the issue of what to do with you yet."  
Loki raises an eyebrow. "And what options is he considering?"  
"Well, Clint suggested we stick an arrow in your eye and be done with it. Natasha got on board with that one pretty quick too. Steve wanted to give you a trial in our courts here on Earth."  
"And what would you do with me, Man of Iron?" Loki asked with a smirk.  
"Don't call me that," Tony said, pointing a finger at Loki. "As for what we should do with you, I don't care so long as you don't make problems for me anymore." He shrugged. "Consider yourself safe for now. Fury doesn't want to piss off Asgard, so he won't get you killed."  
Loki let out a hollow laugh. "Asgard won't care. They already did it themselves."  
Tony frowned. "Excuse me?"  
Loki's smile was anything but happy. "I'm dead, Tony Stark. They already killed me."

* * *

A/N: Wheee Loki gets to make no sense for a bit. Trust me. It will be explained. Also once again reviews are good and we loves them precioussss.


	3. Knife

3. Knife

A/N: Oh my god, I got online this morning and my inbox was chock full of favorite, alert, and review notices. Thank you all of you. It makes me incredibly happy to know that people are enjoying my writing, and I hope I don't disappoint you in the future.

* * *

"Excuse me? You don't LOOK dead to me." Tony shoots him a look that quite obviously states, you are crazy and I am worried for your sanity before flicking his eyes up to one of the cameras worriedly and back to Loki, who seems to be on the verge of tears. Tony has never been good at feelings stuff, he's not anyone's fucking therapist, and he certainly didn't plan on dealing with a supervillain's meltdown. No sir, that is NOT what Tony Stark does, ever, and can someone please hurry up and save him from the situation that is about to happen.

Fortunately, it doesn't actually happen.

Loki takes a deep breath and holds it, then lets it out in a long sigh. "I was always a shadow, and now I'm not even that. So far as Asgard is concerned, I am dead, and you may inform your commander that he can take them out of the equation." When he finishes speaking he slumps back against the wall and looks in a different direction, saving Tony from having to figure out what to do with his face.

When Loki makes no further attempt at conversation, Tony slowly backs out of the room, relieved to have escaped the situation. His first instinct would be to go work or drink or something and forget the encounter had ever happened. His second is to tell someone, but anyone he would be likely to tell will know by now. Fury has those video cameras monitored constantly, and is probably being informed right now, and calling the Avengers together as he stands here shivering. Sure enough, he hears the director's voice in his ear. "Stark, report to conference room one immediately." He lingers a moment longer, as if waiting for some imaginary force to intervene, but it doesn't. Slowly, he drags himself up the stairs, taking the long route to the meeting room even though he knows Fury will hate him for it.

xxx

Bruce had remained mostly uninvolved thus far with the strange attempt by the Avengers to talk with their new prisoner. Therefore when Fury called them together to discuss security footage of Tony's conversation, he held considerably less hate for the god then the others. He was always good at seeing facts, and in this case he was probably the only one who was fairly unbiased.

Clint still hated Loki with a vengeance, having your mind rearranged and replaced tends to have that effect. He had spoken to Loki briefly again after the Steve-with-pastries incident, and Loki had once again tried to play games with his head. He would feel much better when the god was dead and buried, and he would not object to being the one that put him there. As he watched the footage he saw no evidence that Loki wasn't just messing with Tony in a way that he knew Tony would be receptive to.

Natasha was sick and tired of dealing with the god of mischief. She hated him for what he'd done to Clint, but she had been willing to put that aside to deal with whatever his new situation was. Except then he had gone out of his way to be a pain in the ass, and on top of that he was making her life difficult. Really, she just wanted him somewhere else where she wouldn't have to deal with him.

Steve had less ill intent towards Loki then one might think. Yes, he had hurt and killed people, but if he thought about it, so had the Avengers. When one is a soldier killing is a fact of life, not some unforgivable crime. Tony didn't think of them as soldiers, but Steve was perfectly aware that that was exactly what they were. Exactly what he had always been, really. Which didn't make Loki innocent or excused, but it made him harder to hate. If there even was a law to describe what the god had done, he should stand trial, but Steve didn't think there was any real protocol regarding alien invasions.

Tony had reasons to hate Loki, sure. The sorcerer had damaged his tower considerably, killed Coulson, and thrown him out of a window. And even after that he'd had the nerve to come back. And then he'd been a dick to everyone including Tony himself. And yet somehow he couldn't hate the man even after all the shit he'd caused, because he thought about Bruce's 'head full of cats' comment and about the unhappiness that clung to the god like a second skin and couldn't help but wonder what had happened.

xxx

Loki slumps against the wall, burying his face in his hands and cursing himself. He should never have told the Avengers such a thing. He should never have thrown away the best defense he had against them. He should never have come to Midgard in the first place when he had already known its populace hated and feared him. What in all the realms had convinced him to throw away his last remaining defense against SHEILD?

Honesty.

He hates that answer so much, because he is the Liesmith and the teller of half truths, and to be defeated by honesty was almost a crime. Only it is true even at its roots and he knows it. He told the truth, a shredded mutilated form of it, because Toy Stark had given him the truth. Not the truth that was just not lying, but the truth that was not avoiding, not pretending everything was alright. Tony had told him his situation though he could have guessed it well enough on his own, and somehow that honesty had compelled him to return the favor. And yes it was foolish, but he'd done it anyway.

He is sure they are discussing him, even now, deciding what to do with him now that Asgard and Thor were out of the picture. He knows they will be far less merciful then they might have been otherwise, but they will also perhaps make a decision, take him out of limbo, let him know if Midgard is going to kill him just has Asgard tried to do. He flinches as Odin's words echo in his mind.

Given the opportunity to become more, you chose to become a monster, and as such I cast you down among those you have hurt most...

"Damn you Father," Loki hisses quietly. Odin had known there would be no return, that Loki would die there in the ice, destroyed by the families of his first victims. Odin had known he could not defend himself after all he had gone through in the prisons of Asgard. He closes his eyes and just reminds himself of what he already knows. Odin never loved him. Odin never wanted him for any reason beyond political convenience. He knows this, maybe has always known it. So why does it still hurt so much?

* * *

A/N: So I'm trying some new stuff with spacing, trying to avoid text walls. Next chapter, staff meeting plus Bruce actually talks.  
In case you can't tell, I am having a hard time getting a handle on how to write Bruce properly. I didn't see the actual Hulk movie, which probably would have helped, so I don't know his motives and stuff super well. I'm trying though.  
Also, reviews are still awesome, feel free to leave one if you have anything to say.


	4. Dice

4. Dice

A/N: I have a tendency to look at the profiles of people who favorite my stuff and see what kinds of things they have written or enjoyed, it's a good way of finding stories to read. It's getting to the point whe it takes quite a while to look at them all, which is funny because I didn't expect to get much of a response to my writing. And yet I have and it's wonderful. So thank you all once again.  
Also, sorry for the delay. Unfortunately I do have other things that occupy my time and you can probably expect longer ones in the future, but I'll try to put out at least one chapter a week even when things get busier, okay?

* * *

Nick Fury hasn't told his superiors that he has Loki in his custody yet. He doesn't plan on telling them until either he needs their help or he already has a plan in motion. He isn't a huge fan of answering to far removed authority figures, and this way he avoids doing so if at all possible. The Avengers listen to him because he tends to be aware of what's going on, but also because he listens to them, and if he consults the council first he may not be able to see what they want before a decision is made. It's a bit of psychology that the council doesn't quite seem to grasp, but it's what makes Fury good with his people. Most of the time the decisions that get made might not align with their opinions, but if they feel like they are a part of it there will be far less argument, far less rebellion.

He stands at the front of the conference room watching the Avengers file in with varying facial expressions ranging from confused agitation (Rogers) to bored annoyance (Barton). He waits for them all to sit, and they all do, each taking their usual place at the large round table in the center of the room. All of them except Stark, whose presence would normally be announced by some sarcastic comment about whatever somebody is wearing or how he was doing something important. A full three minutes of silence later Barton raises his hand in imitation of classroom behavior.  
"Can we just start now and let Stark deal with the consequences of his own lateness for once?" he growls.

Fury doesn't sigh, however much he wants to at the moment. Instead, he answers, "Let's find out" and flicks a small turquoise button on the panel beside him. A screen looming behind him comes on, split into a hundred different video feeds from cameras all over the tower. He scans them quickly with his eyes, picking out one in the lower left that contains the subject of Barton's annoyance and touches the image lightly with his finger. It expands to a fourth the size of the screen, enough for them to see Stark trudging slowly up the stairs. Fury does sigh this time, along with groans from the rest of the room. It will take the man at least five more minutes to get up here that way, so he makes an executive decision and starts going through recorded footage of the hospital wing area, rewinding it until he sees Stark enter the room backwards and stops it when the room contains only Loki again.

"Stark doesn't need to see this twice. Watch it and tell me what you think."

xxx

"...head is a bag of cats, I'm telling you," is the first thing Tony hears upon entering the conference room. The second thing is, "Hello mister Stark, how nice of you to show up." He doesn't bother responding, he just crosses the room and flops down in his designated seat, placing his empty glass on the table with a dull thunk. He gives his chair a spin and comes back around to face the table. All the eyes are on him. Most of them don't look friendly. He gives them all a dismissive wave and folds his hands in his lap, fiddling with a pen between his fingers. They're still staring at him. Just fucking great.

He decides he should probably say something, but right now he's not in the mood for it. Something about his exchange with Loki has unsettled him. BUT he's in a room with people who are expecting him to be just fine and give them his thoughts and his opinions, and if anything Tony is an actor. He's always put on shows for people and there's no reason to stop now, so he puts on his smile-that-isn't-really-a-smile and asks, "What did I miss?" For a moment, the silence is deafening.  
Then Fury replies, "You didn't miss anything, we had just finished reviewing the footage. Next time perhaps you will grace us with your presence a little earlier and know that for yourself." Tony gives a satisfied nod and looks around the room.  
"So," he adresses the others now, spreading his hands, "Thoughts?"

"If it were that easy to get answers I should have done it days ago," answers Natasha instantly. "You were ineffective at gathering information, once you get a hook you are supposed to keep pulling on it. You could have gotten a lot more if you'd pressed a little harder." Yes, that would be the Black Widow for you. Instant criticism, all the time. Or maybe it was just him she hated. Probably that.  
Steve comes to his rescue (not that he needed it) almost instantly. "Alright, save the lessons for later. Right now we need to decide what to do with the guy down there," he gestures to the screen which now shows a current feed of Loki sitting on his hospital bed. He looks to Fury for support. "That IS why you called us here, am I right?" Fury nods, and Steve swivels his chair to face the rest of the team. "So. Now that we don't have to worry about Asgard, plans of action?"  
"Shoot the bastard," Clint replies instantly.  
"Pump him for information about Asgard first. Then shoot him," seconds Natasha.  
"Get him a therapist?" suggests Bruce almost jokingly.  
"Fair trial." That's Steve with his usual bullshit. Nobody on earth can really give the god a FAIR trial, they'd all be biased by fear or hate.  
"Solitary confinement."  
"Life in prison."  
"I still say we shoot him."  
"Lab rat."

Tony sits silently listening to them talk as they throw out idea after idea. Finally, he cuts them off with his own. "Jarvis, the Asgardian Loki is now a guest within my house. Make sure no harm comes to him if possible, alert me if any does. Don't let him leave the building." The room falls silent.  
Then Jarvis replies in its smooth robotic voice, "Yes sir. The arrangements have been made."  
Everyone is staring at him now, and Tony shugs and asks Jarvis for another drink, which the AI promises will be delivered. Then he lets them stare. Clint is the first to speak.  
"Damn it, you can't just do that! You can NOT just decide by yourself that he gets off free!" His face is a painting of shock and anger. He stands abruptly, pushing his chair away from the table and letting it roll off across the floor.  
Now it's Steve shouting at him, "He killed hundreds of people, you don't treat him as a HOUSEGUEST!"  
Followed by Fury's "That was completely out of line, Stark" and by the time Natasha is speaking he can't even hear her over the cacophony of angry voices. He keeps his face straight, but notices Banner across the table, with the bases of his palms pressed into his eyes in frustration. He's not sure whether it's with him personally or the situation as a whole, and he hopes he isn't the cause. He considers Banner a good friend, and the last thing he wants to do is alienate the only other avenger who seems to understand him.

The entire room falls silent when in one sudden motion Bruce rises from his chair and brings both fists down on the table hard. The sound echoes through the now completely still room. Nobody wants to mess with the man who could become the Hulk if they've managed to piss him off.  
He sighs loudly. "Stop yelling. It doesn't solve anything. Now here's what's going to happen." He looks at Tony pointedly. "Loki," his eyes flick to Clint, "is under probationary house arrest." His eyes meet Fury's and and a silent agreement passes between the two. "On the basis of suspected insanity at the time when the crime was committed." He runs his gaze over every person in the room, locking eyes with each of them in turn for no longer then half a second. "If he shows signs of wishing to repeat the act, Clint has the right to shoot him." Now he's looking at Tony again, and the man understands exactly what it means. You created the problem. I cleaned it up. Don't make me regret it. Tony nods almost imperceptibly. Finally Bruce takes his seat again. "Are we agreed?"  
A chorus of murmured 'yes'es run around the room. Then Fury stands swiftly, informs them that he will go contact the Council, and leaves them to themselves. Clint shoots Tony the mother of all glares as he exits the room, followed by a stone-faced Natasha. Bruce rises and indicates that he will be checking on Loki (who is still projected on the screen at the head of the room) leaving only Tony and Steve. A quiet whirring is hears as a claw from the ceiling delivers Tony's drink.

Tony downs said drink in one gulp and prepares to leave the room when Steve speaks again, quietly. "I can't say I agree with you but that must have taken a lot of nerve."  
Tony shrugs. "I don't even know why I did it." Steve stares at him and he clarifies. "I guess the guy just seemed so unhappy that maybe he needed someone to be nice to him for once." Steve seems satisfied by that and joins Tony in the doorway.  
"Come on, lets go do something fun and get our minds off of this." Tony does not mention that he and the Captain do not find the same things fun.

* * *

A/N: Okay so I lied about Bruce. Next chapter. The meeting thing went longer then I expected, also time constraints. Next chapter. Promise.


	5. Shards

5. Shards

A/N: This entire story came out of a few scenes that I had in my head, which was when I started it (at least based on past results) a recipe for failure. I've tried writing stories like that before and run into walls a couple chapters in. Except here I've been getting more scenes entering my head even after the initial few until the entire story has almost entirely laid itself out for me, which is kind of neat.  
Once again, apologies for the wait. It will get shorter, I hope, but I am stuck at camp without a computer and its preventing frequent posting.  
Once again thank you so much to all the reviewers and watchers and people who are reading this. Your support is much appreciated.

* * *

Loki lets in a long breath, allowing it to fill his lungs and his entire being. He reaches for the pool of magic at his core, finding mere drops where normally he might find a lake. He gathers the air within himself and draws from it what thin vapors of magic it contains to add to the pool, though it is a painfully small amount of energy. He lets the breath out, his muscles relaxing as he does so from his neck and shoulders all the way down to his feet. Loki slumps forward to rest his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees. Magic takes longer to recover then injuries take to heal, and while normally he possesses a huge store of it, now it is all but gone and he is vulnerable. Of course, the eating utensils are still available as weaponry, but the plastic knives and forks are not likely to be much use if someone decides to have him killed. He suspects SHEILD will take that option. After all, he is a monster and he is an inconvenient person to have sitting around. Too powerful. Too dangerous.

He hears footsteps, quickly paced and heavy, but not heavy enough to be Iron Man or Captain America. Barton then. The Black Widow walks far more quietly. On an impulse, he grabs up his still untouched orange juice and throws it at the doorway, timing it to hit its victim just as he becomes visible and allowing no time for them to react. There is a surprised shout from the doorway a moment later, but it isn't Barton's voice. He looks up and, seeing who he really hit, doesn't know whether to laugh or hide. The last thing he wants is to be slammed into concrete again by the Hulk. But to his relief, Banner only sighs. Loki decides that maybe apologies are in order if he feels like surviving the week. He gets the distinct feeling that despite the mans muted reaction, he is far from happy.

"Sorry, I thought you were another man. Usually your steps come more slowly." Lousy apology, but better then nothing, he hopes.  
Banner gives him an obviously faked smile. "That's alright, just help me clean it up." Any other day Loki would have waved his hands and the man would have been clean and dry, the floor spotless, and the cup on the side of the bed. Today, Loki doesn't have the magic to do even that without running himself dry. Instead, he carefully raises himself off the bed and makes his way over to the sink in the corner, where there is a dispenser of brown paper. Loki has seen it used by the staff to clean small spills and to dry hands, and assumes that the purpose of the brown paper is to solve problems such as this. He doesn't know how many will be necessary so he grabs a dozen and picks his way between the various chairs, desks, and shelves to the doorway where he hands Banner half the papers and places the other half on the floor.

Obviously the brown papers have no miraculous powers beyond being paper, because when placed on the floor all they do is soak up liquid and sit there in a soggy mass. Banner looks up from wiping off his face to see Loki just staring at the paper on the floor.  
"What's wrong?" he asks tiredly.  
"These cleaning materials are defective. They do nothing besides soak up inadequate amounts of juice." Loki looks up at him with a frown. "Hospitals should have more effective cleaning equipment."  
Banner chuckles, stopping when Loki shoots him a glare to explain. "That's all paper towels are supposed to do. Drop those ones in the trash and get some more." He gestures to a trash bin near the bed, and watches Loki scoop up the paper towels and dump them there unceremoniously before scrambling across the room to obtain more.

Loki finds this all considerably less amusing, but he has not done a lot of exploration of Midgard. He picks things up faster then Thor ever did or ever will, from his short stay previously he learned what was acceptable so far as appearances were concerned and what humans do in emergencies, and over his stay this time he has picked up on the mannerisms of the people surrounding him and built a general idea of how people tend to speak. He has also memorized a few of the more basic medical treatments, which might save him energy in the long run. However, he has not had time to explore and to familiarize himself with all the technology common to this realm, and there are some very simple things he has never had to deal with before now.

When the mess is cleaned up, Loki begins poking around cupboards and asking Banner about the contents, which continues for a while before the scientist decides to introduce the topic he came to discuss.  
"So, uh—don't touch those pills—we were talking about you. I know Tony told you we were before. We discussed that too." His voice conveys tiredness as well as caution.  
"Shall I pretend to be surprised?" asks Loki from his position by the sink where he's pulling out boxes of gloves, pills, and q-tips. He's already destroyed any goodwill he had with Banner by throwing orange juice at him; he doesn't see the point in resuming the silent behavior from before. "What is a q-tip used for? They do not look like they would be very effective tools."  
Bruce ignores the question about the q-tip and continues. "Not surprised, but you might like to know we reached a conclusion."  
Loki goes still, lowering the q-tip he has been examining. "Ah. And what is to be done with the monster now that you have nursed me back to health?" Bruce could swear that Loki's face is reminiscent of a character from Star Trek right now, the android. It's that expression of emotional emotionlessness, like there are feelings that are almost there but aren't quite.  
"Tony stuck his neck out for you, that's probably the only reason you're still here. There are going to be rules though. There's a limit to how much his word can buy you, and a lot of people aren't happy right now." He lets out a long sigh.  
Loki's brow furrows ever so slightly. "You aren't having me killed."  
"Did you want to die?"  
There is a pause, which is a little too long for Bruce's comfort. "No." At least I don't think so.  
"Good," Bruce replies uneasily. "Basically you need to be accompanied by one of us to go anywhere, you don't tamper with or steal anything, and you don't try to leave. Otherwise Clint gets to shoot you and that would make Tony and myself rather unhappy."  
Loki laughs, but it's an empty sound. "Why do you care for my well-being, either of you? I have done you no favors. You owe me nothing."  
"Normally it would be only a human rights concern. Right now we both just made ourselves unpopular—Tony more then myself—to ensure your well-being. Don't make that a waste of time." The way he says it, it's almost but not quite a threat. Bruce tends not to do threats much anymore, not to what extent he can avoid it, not when everyone already knows his very presence is a threat on its own.  
Loki pauses once again longer then Banner thinks should be necessary, then answers "understood" and returns the medical supplies to their original locations. He doesn't say thank you, but Bruce didn't really expect a thank you anyway.

xxx

Steve Rogers is a natural leader. It's not something he would say about himself, he was never as confident in himself as perhaps he should be, but he has this awareness of the people around him and the dynamics between them that allows him to know how to organize them effectively and create the least possible friction within the group. He finally thought he'd got it figured out the first time, but then Thor left and he had to figure out the new best combinations. Without a secondary focus for the Hulk things had been changed to keep things moving towards the "Other Guy" so they didn't end up with a roaming rage monster. Tony and Clint also have to work together now to keep the sky covered. Right now if someone doesn't do something Steve will have to reorganize the team again, because the open resentment Clint is showing toward Tony (and even to some extent Bruce) right now looks like it might get in the way of their working together smoothly.

He's not sure the two of them are aware of the problem yet. Clint might be, but Tony is not a soldier by training at least, and he's never served with people who hate him before. Steve can't really say he has either, but he's seen it happen enough to know that if anger manifests at the wrong time, even if only for a moment, there can be decisions made that can cost unnecessary lives. Of course Clint will say it's not going to affect work, but Steve doesn't know how much faith he wants to put in the man's word. He's seen others say the same and be wrong, but Clint has seen a lot more training of a different type. So maybe Clint would be right. Maybe this will only manifest itself in non-combat scenarios. But he doesn't want to bet Tony's life on it, or anyone else's for that matter.

So he's setting up a place for Loki where he can be put away out of sight and out of mind as he was when Thor had taken him to Asgard. Maybe then they can sort things out, fix the issues between them, and in thirty years they can quietly ship the god off to some remote island and Clint will have forgotten, or at least stopped focusing on Loki. Thirty years must be too long for Clint to hold a grudge, right?

He carefully places the paperwork into Fury's mailbox, which Tony would laugh at him for, but Steve still prefers hard copies of things to computer files. Then he leaves the director's empty office and makes his way down the hall. He passes an elevator and descends the stairs instead, heading for Tony's workshop.

When he gets there he glances in. Tony and Bruce are hovering over a screen, Tony is talking and Bruce is typing and images are appearing on the transparent surface. There's a shape of a hand on the panel by the door, and he runs his finger along the edge of it, jumping back when it flashes light blue under his touch.  
The mechanical voice of Jarvis filters into the hallway. "Please press your hand to the pad to allow scanning." Steve does as instructed, and the pad flashes red accompanied by the words Access Denied. Tony looks up, over towards Steve, and back to the screen. A moment later the glass door slides open.

"So Cap, what do you want down in the genius-only lab? Don't bother apologizing your timing was perfect, can we have some of your blood?" Steve stops short half a yard from the doorway.  
"Uh, my blood?" he asks uneasily.  
"Yes, like a blood sample, we're running some tests. Come on." When Steve doesn't move, Tony actually swivels his chair around to look at him. "What do you think I am, a vampire? Get over here." Steve does so reluctantly, and Tony pulls out a small thin needle. Steve is reminded a little too much of just before he was injected with serum. The needle pricks his skin and stays there for three whole seconds before sliding back out. Tony hands Bruce the needle and Bruce deposits the blood into a small glass tube before handing it back to Tony who drops it in a small plastic bin and swivels back to face Steve.

"So Cap, what caused you of all people to venture down here?" Stupid Tony and all his powers of sidetracking. Steve fumbles about in his mind for a moment to find the words he has planned, and ends up with just the topic. Well, he can work with that.  
"Clint is not liking you guys right now," he starts slowly. Tony snorts, and Bruce sighs.  
"We should rename you Captain Obvious," Tony remarks.  
Steve shoots him a glare, one that says that this is very serious and to shut up and listen. Tony crosses his arms, and Steve continues. "It would be good if you guys could walk lightly for a bit, okay?" He didn't actually know of any time when Bruce hadn't walked lightly, but Tony needed to be informed. "Otherwise this could get dangerous, and I don't want either of you in any more danger then necessary."  
Tony claps slowly, and expression on his face of total boredom. "What about this should I be worried about? It's not like he's going to shoot me."  
"No but he might not cover for you when you really need it either," hisses Steve, locking eyes with Tony. "I don't want things to fall apart, now is not the time to be an agitator, am I clear?"  
Tony did not seem to feel the full effect of Steve's stare. He just shrugged, said "okay" a couple times, and returned his focus to the screen. Bruce gave Steve an apologetic look and Steve strode out of the room with a long sigh.

Stupid Tony. Stupid Clint. Stupid Loki.

* * *

A/N: Sorry. Again. Still. Also apologies for writing Steve and Bruce so damn badly. They don't quite feel right but I've tried playing with those scenes over and over again and can't really figure out how to make them work. So yeah. Fortunately you'll only have to put up with my lousy writing of Steve one more time in the near future. For the most part it's going to be Loki POV.


	6. Bridge

6. Bridge

A/N: I am so so sorry. School happened and now I have almost no time for this. It's not dead yet though, I'm still trying. Thank you so much to those of you that are still reading regardless of my lateness.  
I'm writing from my phone now.

* * *

Six Days Later  
xxx

The first thing that strikes Steve when he enters the room is that Loki is crying. The god is curled into a ball, asleep, with tears dripping down his face. Steve blinks hard, not quite believing this. He frowns and crosses over to the bed, and now he can hear quiet muffled whimpers. What on earth is going on? He shakes Loki's shoulder gently and the sound stops. Loki opens his eyes a moment later to glare at him.  
"Why were you touching me?" He sits up, still glaring.  
"You were... having a bad dream I think." He sends Loki an apologetic look. "Also I needed you to wake up and come with me."  
Loki continues to glare at him, and then blinks a couple times to get the water out of his eyes. It is at this point that the god seems to realize that he has lines of moisture running down his face. The hostility is coming off of him in waves now, and Steve steps back on instinct.

Loki's voice is dangerously calm and low. "Get out." Steve doesn't move and before he has a chance to react Loki is inches from him screaming those same two words at the top of his lungs and his fist collides with the super-soldier's face sending Steve stumbling back into a set of drawers with a loud crash. Even without magic, Loki as an Asgardian is stronger then any human, and while a prepared Steve might have put up a fight, a surprised one has no chance.  
Steve pushes himself back to his feet slowly, holding up his hands. "I'm going, I'm going..." He backs out of the room and Loki chucks a pillow after him.

Steve sighs, rubbing his bleeding nose. He will have to try again later, but the prospect of doing so does not make him happy, and he silently curses Tony for making him deal with this.

xxx

Loki fumes silently, angry at the mortal for waking him, at himself for showing such weakness, and at Odin for giving him the memories that have become recurring nightmares. He wipes his eyes and the dream begins to fade, but the memory upon which it was so closely based does not, and Loki rubs the space just below his ribs where the first blow had come. Loki had not expected mercy, but he had certainly not expected Odin to hurt him with his own hands. It had hurt, both the blow itself and the shock of it. Not as much as the acid, but he had also been far more lucid at the time.

He wipes the last of the wetness from his face and lets the present sink in. He just attacked Captain America. That has to be against some kind of rule. And Loki throws his head back and laughs because after he had finally thought he would live, he had surely just brought his own death._ Sorry man of iron, I guess I just wasted your time._ And he continues to laugh, at the pure silliness of him apologizing to a mortal for anything, or even considering doing so. He is a GOD, and here he is at the mercy of mortals, and if it were anyone but him he would have found it amusing, the reversal of roles, and yet when it is him it is a combination of fear and relief that cause him to laugh so hard it makes his sides hurt. Fear because they will surely kill him, and relief for the same reason. And so his laughter rings out until he can no longer laugh and it becomes hiccuping giggles instead and finally he falls silent.

He hates this, all of it. He should have died long ago, or else he should have forgotten his scheming just for that one fateful day, or maybe he should have just ended Thor's exile and let him come home a weak mortal. Any number of choices that would have brought him to a better present, and yet in every action he felt somehow justified. Well. All but one, and that action had not even been his own. And yet here he is because of wrong turns made by himself, by Odin, by Thor. And now by Tony Stark because he is going to die and the iron man is going to lose. But then, he had chosen to bet on a loser.

There is a light knocking on the door and the voice of that very same Tony Stark of whom he had been thinking. "I take it you enjoyed punching Cap?" Loki said nothing and so Tony filled the silence. "I'm coming in and will be pretty offended if you give me the same treatment."  
Loki gives him a 'screw you' glare as he comes in and does not bother to get up. If Tony cares about his rudeness, it certainly doesn't show, but Loki does notice a mechanical looking suitcase at the man's side. He does not put it down as he approaches the god, and the Liesmith decides to make sure to poke at it before this conversation is over.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tony asks, though his tone does not particularly resemble a question.  
"Sitting in your healing area waiting for you to shoot me, what does it look like?" The mortal raises an eyebrow.  
"No one intends to shoot you yet, reindeer games. Jarvis expressed a willingness to contact Fury, but I told him to inform those watching the footage..." His eyes flick up to one of the security cameras. "...that it was of no consequence." Apparently he doesn't trust the agents who watch Loki's every move too much.  
"I just attacked one of your mightiest warriors," Loki says incredulously, "and it is of no consequence?"  
Tony smirks. "You aren't dead yet, don't go looking for an excuse to kick the bucket. Now," he announces a change in topic with a special emphasis on that word, "Steve set up a room for you, with a door that locks and everything. So if you'd kindly refrain from trying to kill anyone, he would like to show it to you." Tony conveniently neglects to mention that any one of the Avengers could override that lock if they needed to.  
"Lead the way," Loki mutters, and grudgingly follows the man who appears to be repeatedly rescuing him out the door.

The two of them walk in relative silence, or at least Loki walks in silence and Stark makes attempts at conversation. When those fail he settles for being annoying, and Loki settles for deciding to rip his throat out some other time.  
Thankfully when they reach the elevator Steve is waiting for them. Tony makes a crack about how the Captain can't use it without him, and then kindly shuts up.  
Steve for his part looks Loki over warily before giving him a forced smile. "Hello. Are you feeling better now?" The god gives him a dark look. "Oh." Steve is completely unfazed. "Well, I've set up a new room for you hopefully you'll like it a bit better. Tony says he's got some new places you can go now if you want too."  
"Shall I thank you for the increase in the size of my cage?" Loki fixes the hero with a sullen glare.  
"If you'd like," Steve answers noncommitally, pressing a button on the panel by the elevator door. The small metal box and its occupants inside begin to rise a moment later, and Loki finds the video camera hidden behind the mirrored glass sides of the contraption before it jolts to a stop.  
They shuffle out one by one, Steve first and Tony last, into the hallway. The walls on this floor are a pale yellow, unlike the glaring white of the sick bay, and lined with windows instead of fluorescent lights. Loki finds the change mildly pleasant. He can see the sky, an awful lot more blue on a single surface then he particularly cares to see, but at least it's not white. There's energy here too, more then in the small colorless sick bay. It comes from the sun, Loki realizes after a moment. He soaks it in, the power of the nearest star, just as he would soak up the power of darkness or of ice. Change has power, and here that power is his to drink, power that he can use to refill his empty pool of magic. And Steve and Tony are giving it to him. Maybe he should find a way to encourage this kind of behavior. Of course, they probably don't know that simply taking him out of a room where all things are kept static and unchanging gives him power, but still.

They turn left and the windows are no longer visible, and then a right and Steve stops. "Here we go." They're standing in front of a pale green door adorned with a simple brass rectangle on which LOKI is neatly stamped. The mischief god frowns, and the two Avengers stare at him for a moment before Stark informs him that "there's a wonderful contraption here called a doorknob, and if you twist it, THE DOOR OPENS". Loki makes a hissing sound between his teeth and considers trying to shove his fist through the door, but then he sighs and pulls it open the ordinary way.  
Behind it is a small but neat room, walls painted a steely green-grey. The furnishings are simple, all painted a crisp dark black, and there's a small slice of window running down the far wall. The bed, neat and made with dark green sheets stretching across it, has a small mound of boxes stacked on top of it. Loki glances at the other two, who are both watching him intently. He takes a single step into the new room, looking about casually, as if the possession of his own quarters were of no importance and instead only a mild curiosity. He can nearly feel the Captain fidgeting behind him, watching his every move with an almost childish hopefulness.  
Tony interrupts the moment with a single loud clap. "Are you going to ask stars n' stripes to show you around or have I gotta do it for you?" he asks, taking a couple large steps toward the center of the room. Steve flushes slightly and hastily moves to join Tony. Loki does not move, but makes a careful note of Stark's unattended case.

"I set this room up for you, its yours now, I figured it was better then a hospital room... It's got a lock and a bookshelf and a window. We got you some new clothes and books too," he adds, gesturing to the boxes.  
Loki's eyes casually rise to meet the Captain's gaze. "An what do you want from me in return?"  
"What? Nothing. I'm not doing this because I want... It's a gift, okay?"  
Loki's eyes narrow. "A gift for a murderer and a war criminal? I don't think so."  
Tony chooses that moment to break the slowly rising tension before it hits dangerous levels. "Man, if your own room gets this much suspicion, I hate to think how much the next part will cause."  
Loki raises an eyebrow and Tony smirks. The god sighs. "Get on with it then."  
Tony hands over a map of the floor, which Loki slowly unfurls. "The places and routes marked in orange are where you're allowed to go. Have fun."  
Loki studies the map carefully, and Steve glances over at it, a frown slowly tugging on his lips. "Tony..." Loki refolds the map and places it in a pocket. Steve's frown deepens. "Tony, that's... You're giving him access to the Avengers' training area."  
Tony shrugs. "Yeah, so?"  
"You're setting him up for a direct confrontation with Barton!"  
"Where else is he going to run around without destroying my tower?"

While the two men argue, and Loki takes the opportunity to take a look at Stark's mechanical suitcase. It's red and silver, smooth, and has several seams running down the metal. Loki runs his finger down one curve, coming to a button on the side. The heroes are so occupied with each other that they don't notice him doing so until he presses it and yelps.

Tony and Steve turn to see red and silver snaking its way up Loki's body, and Stark has just enough time to object before Loki's panicked expression disappears under the titanium faceplate. The god recoils, trying to shake off the sturdy metal without success.  
The robotic voice of Jarvis comes from the ceiling. "Unauthorized use of suit. Requesting permission to activate."  
"No!" Tony and Steve shout at the same moment. Somewhere beneath his shocked fear, Tony is impressed that the flailing god has the strength to move under a couple hundred pounds of metal. His focus, however, is more on the fact that the already dangerous Loki is wearing his suit and he himself is defenseless. A sharp fear courses through him, and he takes a couple steps back before summoning the nerve to hold his ground.  
The supersoldier on the other hand has fallen into a light defensive position, ready to move should things get bad. He's scanning the room for any thing that can be used as a weapon or a shield, preparing to use himself to shield the now defenseless Tony if needed.  
Loki for his part is flailing wildly. The eyes of the suit are dark, and Tony realizes that the liesmith can't see a thing. In a moment of almost suicidal brilliance, he begins carefully moving toward the god.

"Loki," he almost yells, "can you hear me?" Steve looks at him nervously and takes a step toward him, but Tony's focus is entirely on the armored god. "Loki, I need you to stand still!" He's a mere two feet from the god now.  
"Tony..." Steve says warning, but Loki slowly stops moving.  
"Loki, stay absolutely still," the scientist continues slowly. The god stops altogether. "Good. Good. Jarvis, revert the suit to its storage form please." There is a single moment when nothing happens. The entire room seems to hold its breath. And then the armor begins to withdraw, retreating back to its suitcase form. Loki staggers back, eyes wide. He snaps around when Tony touches his shoulder, barely refraining from throwing the mortal across the room.  
"What. Was. That?" He chokes the words out between long staggering breaths. The tenseness is visible in his shoulders and his back, his eyes are wide, and he looks like a coiled spring.  
Tony withdraws his hand and Steve relaxes slightly. "That was my suit. I would appreciate it if you could refrain from playing with it in the future." Loki nods slowly, and the panic seems to ebb away, though signs of it are still apparent in the way he holds himself.  
"Noted. Thank you for your gifts." He retreats to the bed and sits on it stiffly. Steve and Tony exchange glances before withdrawing from the room, and Loki is left alone with his shock and humiliation.

* * *

A/N: There WILL be a delay before the next one but thus far it's being fun to write so hopefully you won't have to wait as long, ok?

Also. Reviews are awesome. They're what made sure this story didn't die. Thank you all of you that took the time to give me feedback.


	7. Hands

7. Hands

A/N: This chapter was fun to write (if a little short), after all, we see more Hawkeye. Always good.  
Anyway, I keep getting feedback saying that Hawkeye is a jerk and a terrible person and felt the need to say, as much as I like Loki, I think Barton is completely justified in his views. Loki did horrible horrible things. The reason we sympathize with him is because of his terrible past, but Barton doesn't know about that, and even if he did, I'm not sure it would make a difference. It certainly doesn't excuse Loki's actions.  
At any rate, just thought I'd give you my two cents on that whole topic. Anyways, onwards. I believe you wanted a story.

* * *

The training area is empty when Loki arrives there the next afternoon in a new pair of pants and a loose-fitting long sleeved green shirt. He surveys the room that is the center off its floor. Punching bags in one corner, a small arena in the center, an obstacle course... off to the left are three racks of practice weapons of every standard type. There is also a set of wired bands in one corner, but recalling the previous day's experience with midgardian tech, he gives them little consideration. On the right wall hang several targets in varying heights and shapes.

He crosses the room, skirting the edge of the arena to reach the weapons rack. The closest rack seems to be for ranged weaponry, from a long curved bow to a series of guns of varying sizes. On the floor at its base is a stack of cards. It looks out of place. Loki scoops up and pockets the cards. Later they might prove useful, or at least provide him with entertainment when he finished the two or three books that had been outside his door this morning.  
He moves on to the next rack. Swords, shields, knives, and a long coil of thin wire. These weapons look almost Asgardian in nature, but without the careful craftsmanship and powerful enchantments that are always woven into the weapons of gods. He tests a knife. It's larger then he would prefer, if only slightly, but the weight is good, centered. The metal is not as strong as that of Asgardian blades, but he does not expect it to be. The knife is adequate. This knife and three others of its kind find themselves held between the fingers of his right hand. They fit well there. Good.

Loki moves on, skipping the last rack of weapons in favor of examining the obstacle course. It's pretty obvious that the obstacle course is more like a strip of rough terrain with machines on both sides trying to kill the participant. That said, Loki wonders what this could possibly do to be of help to the Avengers. After all, every one of them has been in a real battle, and should know well enough that nothing is going to move as predictably as the machines present here. Loki reaches out and touches the cold metal of the closest machine, essentially a robotic arm with a knife on the end. It's cold. It has no energy running through it, he can see clear as day what it does. There are no tricks here.  
The Midgardians don't use magic. Loki knows that. They can't figure out how to gather it, which is well enough, seeing as their planet is not nearly as rich in magic as Asgard, or even Joutenheim. They have electricity, the power of lightning folded into tiny circuits running through everything. They have a replacement. But Stark's armor the previous day hadn't felt controlled, cold, static. It hadn't felt like magic either, but it felt like no other Midgardian technology that Loki has seen. Heavy, cold, yes. Lifeless, predictable, no. It was different. Tony Stark was different.

Loki steps back, shaking his head. He isn't sure where that came from, that connection, but now that he has it, he knows it to be true. Tony Stark feels different from all midgardians that Loki has met. He appears the same. Small, weak, arrogant, sentimental. But somehow he isn't. He makes connections. Odd ones. Ones that smell of magic though they are not the same, and ones that smell of electricity as well though they are so much more then that.  
Loki doesn't understand it, but he is now so very aware of the mortal's power. So very aware of its similarity to his own and yet at the same time its foreignness. He ponders it as his feet move him on past the obstacle course, drifting toward the center and down the short row of steps into the arena.

He drops the four knives and closes his eyes, drawing from his mind some opponent, bigger and stronger then himself. He visualizes it clearly in front of him, and when he opens his eyes he can see it. It is not magic but practice that produces the false enemy whose blows Loki ducks beneath and finds the openings in. It's practice, experience. It's his time being trained as a warrior of Asgard, being the smallest and weakest of the bunch. It's the almost infinitely deep well of experience fighting because it would make Thor happy, make Odin like him, the greatest warriors of Asgard against the tiny illusionist.  
The imaginary man in front of him is every person he's ever fought, all the big brutish men, the ones who he had learned to fight like a cat so he could best them at their own sport. It hadn't made Thor happy. It hadn't made Odin like him. But it had made him hard to touch. It had made him stop ending up backed against a wall.  
The god ducks and dodges and moves like a flowing stream of energy, and finally lashes out at his imaginary opponent when he has the best opening, hitting where it will do the most damage and following it up with a sweep of his leg to the place where his opponent's foot would always fall as they staggered back in surprise and pain. His enemy would be on the floor now, and all Loki would have to do would be to shoot the fallen attacker a look of condescending disappointment and walk away.

Today, Loki's invisible enemy fades and as he turns, he sees Barton by the side of the arena, watching him. Loki shoots him a grin that's all teeth. Barton doesn't smile. Loki decides the initiative is his.  
"Hey. You hate me?" he calls up to the agent.  
"You could say that."  
"You want to fight me? To kill me? To figure me out?"  
Barton smirks, and movement behind him alerts Loki to the much subtler presence of the Black Widow. "Was that an invitation?"  
Loki raises an eyebrow. "Was it?"  
Natasha calls "Clint, don't," but Barton swings himself over the railing and lands a in the arena. Loki can see the woman hesitate before moving out of his sight toward the door.  
Loki smiles darkly. "They trained you to fight with your hands. Let's see how good you are."

xxx

Natasha enters the dining room loudly for once. That's how they all know something is wrong. Steve ant Tony look up from a fashion catalog, which up until this point Tony had been trying to convince Steve to order from. Banner looks up from his newspaper nervously. Natasha addresses them in a deliberately cold expressionless tone.  
"Clint and Loki are fighting."  
Steve tenses and rises to his feet. Tony can feel the combination of fear and determination coming off of him as he asks, "Where are they?"  
"They're in the training room."  
Steve looks back at the others. "Tony, let's go. Bruce, contact the medical wing just in case."  
Tony masks his own discomfort with a smile. "Sure thing, Cap. Jarvis, start some popcorn."  
Bruce nods nervously, and Tony follows Steve and Natasha out the door and down the hall. To be honest, Tony kind of expects Clint to be kicking Loki's ass. After all, Jarvis hasn't reported any damages yet, and if the last time is any indication, when Loki fights he levels buildings. That said, if Loki could throw Steve against a wall effortlessly, maybe he could be beating Clint without the magic that had destroyed things so easily the first time around.

However, when they enter the room, everything is still intact. Tony steps cautiously over to the edge of the arena and sees the god and the agent fighting it out not with punches but with in a constantly moving series of strikes and deflections. Loki, despite his height and strength advantages, is fighting as if he were the smaller of the two, relying on manipulating Clint's errors and overreaches rather then making attacks of his own. Clint for his part has a more attack-based approach, coming at his opponent with strikes, traps, and deflecting rather then avoiding attacks when they do come his way. Scattered on the floor around them are three or four knives, but neither seem inclined to pick one up and use it.

Steve is standing next to him now and Tony notices that the usually determined and controlled soldier doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. He puts his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just watch. Ten bucks says Clint wins?"  
Steve shakes his head in something akin to disbelief, but his eyes are fixed on the fight playing out before them.

The back and forth continues several minutes, and then Clint lands a hit. Loki goes with it, pushed down, but he manages to break away and rolls back onto his feet as Clint's momentum carries him forward. Loki has something in his hand now, though nobody can see what it was or where he's pulled it from. Clint catches himself and twists to his feet, but Loki is behind him. Loki grabs his shoulder and presses the edge object in his hand to the back of Clint's neck. Tony still can't see what it is, but he realizes at this point that there are knives on the ground and he doesn't know how many there are supposed to be, and the expression on Clint's face confirms his fear.

"DON'T MOVE!"  
Everyone save Barton looks up to see Natasha standing with a gun leveled at Loki. There is a long moment of absolute silence, and then Loki releases Barton and steps back, raising his hands to reveal a simple playing card. Natasha slowly lowers her gun. Clint turns to look at Loki. Loki for his part simply raises an eyebrow.  
"The king of spades salutes you," he says to Barton calmly, tossing him the card. Then he turns his back and climbs the steps out of the arena and out of the room.

xxx

That evening, Steve knocks on Loki's door. The god opens it wordlessly, and he steps in.  
"Why did you do that earlier?"  
"Fight Barton?"  
"Yes."  
Loki shrugs. "He's angry. I thought maybe letting him hit me a couple times would be better for us all in the long run." The captain frowned. Loki returned to his bed where a book lay open and began to read again.  
"Thanks, I guess..." Loki's eyes stay on the book. Steve stands awkwardly for several long seconds before turning to go. As he is about to close the door behind him, Loki looks up with an expression the captain can't read.  
"You're welcome."

* * *

A/N: Heyyy I actually finished it in a timely manner. The scene was fun to write. It kind of wrote itself once I started it.

I like the idea of Loki as the King of Spades and Tony as the King of Diamonds. So it will be drawn. And it will be on my fanart DA in hopefully under a week. And then I will give you all a link. *nodnodnod*Also, if there are any scenes from this (or from any other Avengers fanfic I guess, but I can't promise I'll know them well enough to do it properly) that you'd like me to draw, pm me. *nodnodnod*

Also, reviews are awesome. Feedback is awesome. The people who give it to me are awesome. All that good stuff.


	8. Shoes

8. Shoes

A/N: Apologies for delays. I know my actually getting writing done record is crap. I hope I can at the very least get a little forgiveness from those of you still reading. I brought plot. And ice cream.  
Many of you have probably noticed that I'm being obnoxious and withholding the plot. That would be because this chapter hasn't happened yet (which is to say, I couldn't figure out how to write it). Fortunately, I figured out, at least to some extent, how to do it without Thor (who isn't allowed to show up until much much later due to plot). I don't know how long this is gonna be either. Maybe super short, maybe super long. I'm just gonna keep writing 'till what has to happen happens.

Also. I just want to give a super big thanks to anyone who still believes in this story.

* * *

Tony knocks on the door to the trickster's room at around ten at night. Loki pokes his head out, glaring at his host. "What is it now, Stark?"  
Tony raises an eyebrow. "What now? Did I bother you recently?" Loki rolls his eyes. "Can you tell me how, because I haven't seen you all day."  
"I would ask why you choose to see me now then. There is no law requiring you to spend time in my presence each day." He pulls his head back and prepares to close the door.  
"Why would I ever NOT want to see you? You're just so nice to be around." Loki frowns, and Tony pushes the door open a little wider. "I've been nice and let you live here. Maybe you could do something for me."  
"You wouldn't let me leave if I tried."  
"Of course not, but you aren't dead yet, are you?" He pauses, then adds awkwardly, "By our standards, I mean." Loki pauses a minute, and his face takes on a neutrality that makes Tony uneasy.  
"No," the god replies finally. "I'm not." The door opens a little further and Loki steps back to allow Tony passage and then closes it behind him. Tony notes the god's uncomfortable glance at his suit briefcase, which he does not put down this time. "Why are you here?"  
Tony doesn't answer, he gestures to Loki's single chair, a large soft armchair that Steve had picked out because it looked like 'the most comfortable chair on the planet, Tony!' Loki glances darkly at the chair, but doesn't move an inch.  
"Sit."  
Loki remains motionless.  
"Don't make me ask nicely, I won't do it, you know."  
"Do not mock me, mortal."  
Tony raises an eyebrow. "And you were being so nice too." Loki holds back a hiss and settles for an unamused glare.  
"You have not withheld your intentions before."  
"If I tell you what I'm here for, will you sit down?" Tony attempts to negotiate.  
"Perhaps."

Tony frowns. It Is the best he seems likely to get, but he is not accustomed to having control taken from him, though it seems that by now maybe he should be. "I need to ask you about some things. For all the time you've been here, you haven't told us much."  
The god glares at him. "I should have suspected-"  
"Okay reindeer games, let's get something straight," Tony says, cutting off the visibly surprised god. "I'm not being sneaky or trying to coerce you into doing what I say or telling me things by being nice. If I'm being a decent guy, it's because I am one. If I want information from you, it's because I want information. The nice things aren't tied to or even related to the information, so let's drop that attempt at guilt tripping before it starts."  
"What leads you to believe that anything I can tell is any of your concern?" hisses Loki.  
"What if I was going to ask you your favorite ice cream flavor?"  
"Iced cream sounds disgusting, and regardless that is not what you intend to ask."  
Tony stops. "Wait, hold the phone. You don't like ice cream?"  
Loki wrinkles his nose. "I have never eaten it, but it sounds highly distasteful."  
The billionaire stares at Loki with a look of mock horror. "We need to fix this. Now. Loki, come on, we're getting you some ice cream."

xxx

A confused Loki follows a determined Tony Stark into what the Avengers use as the main living room. It's an area that is technically off-limits to Loki, but he figures if anyone calls him on it, he will point out the fact that Stark has practically dragged him down here and, up until moments ago, was pulling him along by the wrist.  
Stark stands in the door of the room and spreads his arms wide. "My friends," he shouts above the sound of the movie they are watching. Banner and Rogers look up, while the spider and the hawk hardly bother. Loki suspects from the raised eyebrows Stark gets from his fellow mortals that incursions such as this are not abnormal. Stark continues, unfazed. "We are going on an ice cream trip!" At this, Barton does look up, and Bruce sighs.  
"With Loki?" his fellow scientist asks, alerting the other avengers to the liesmith's presence, were they not already aware. Stark nods sagely.  
"The poor man has been deprived of ice cream. I could hardly let this injustice go unrighted."  
"So basically you wanted ice cream," translates Rogers.  
"When do we leave?" Barton pipes up. Loki wonders what this iced cream could have that would cause Barton to want to come on such a venture with him of all people. He supposes the man might just want a chance at killing him should he attempt escape.  
"Right now. Get your shoes on," Tony shouts, tossing Loki a coat.

The six of them, five heroes and one rather mundane-looking villain, leave the house late at night and begin their walk down the brightly lit New York streets. A couple teens giggle as they pass and a man in his late forties stops and stares, but these are the outliers tonight. The Avengers are seen so often in this part of town that hardly anyone takes much notice anymore. They're just four laughing men now, often seen wandering the streets. Sightings of Natasha are rarer, but even so, no one takes much notice.  
Down the street, a left turn, Loki spies a stray cat. It's funny, he wouldn't have expected to find one so close to so many people. For a moment he is tempted to scoop it up and bring it along, but then he remembers whose company he's in and looks away with a sigh.  
A right. A large group of men and women stumble past, all dressed in what is Midgardian formal attire, but reeking of alcohol. They smell a little like Tony, he supposes, but with less metallic energy and more chemical cleaners.  
A left and a short hundred feet and they're standing out in front of a shop. It is labelled Ice Cream Love, and its sign features a picture of a brown triangle topped by two brightly colored circles.

Tony steps in, grinning, followed closely by Clint. Loki realizes he is walking beside Steve and quickens his pace, pushing through the door cautiously, but quickly nonetheless. Steve catches the door as it's closing and, ever the gentleman, holds it open for Natasha.  
Clint is already speaking to the man behind the counter when Tony claps Loki on the shoulder, getting himself an annoyed glare from the god.  
"This," Tony says, gesturing at the many buckets of various colorful substances, "Is ice cream. Pick any flavor you want."  
Loki steps forward to view the colorful substances through the glass. There are several that are shades of white and brown, as well as a couple with several colors, three buckets of varying pinks, one of blue, two of yellow, and one of green with black bits in it. He points through the glass so that Tony can see his choice.  
"That one."  
Tony smirks. "Shoulda known you'd pick green." He turns to the man behind the counter. "Two scoops of mint chip in a sugar cone." The man spoons two scoops of ice cream into a cone the same color as the triangle on the sign. Tony trades him cash for it, and then hands the treat to Loki. "Here you go. Now go sit over there with Cap."  
For once, Loki doesn't really consider disobeying, nor does he think about the fact that he is taking orders from a mortal. He's too preoccupied trying to figure out how one is supposed to eat iced cream. Glancing over at a couple a few meters away, he decides that the method is just to lick it. He does so and is surprised at how much he likes the frigid sweetness that clings to his tongue. He takes a bite of the minty iced cream before heading over to the booth Steve is sitting at.

Loki slides in next to the supersoldier, careful to keep several inches between the two of them. Steve is eating a paper cup full of white ice cream with a plastic spoon, but almost drops the spoon when the god appears next to him.  
The two of them eat their ice cream in awkward silence for a moment before Loki casually says, "Tell me. Is this legal?"  
"Uh, what... oh. I don't think so."  
Loki suppresses a frown. Why would Tony Stark break the law of his homeworld just to provide Loki with a delicious dessert? It seems awfully risky. "Oh. Alright." Another moment of awkward silence.  
"Do you like it?"  
"It is... adequate."  
"He likes it," Tony corrects, sliding in across from them. Barton appears next to him. The two are holding identical cones, each with two scoops of brown with swirls of even darker brown running through them. Tony bites into his a bit wolfishly, but Barton's style of eating seems closer to Loki's method, the slow but sure demolition of his ice cream through many small licks.  
"Remind me," mutters Barton, unable to bring up the level of negativity he would probably like, "Why is Loki outside of his assigned area?"  
"Because I wanted to buy him ice cream and you didn't call me on it," says Tony matter-of-factly.  
"Out of curiosity," says Steve, "Would you have even listened if we had called you on it?"  
"No. Not unless you'd called up Fury," Tony admits.  
"So all we have to do to be listened to is call up Fury?"  
"Why don't you go sit over there with your girlfriend, Legolas. This table is for cool people." He looks at Loki and Steve and reassesses his statement. "Or people who aren't asshole government dogs."  
"I resent that, and she's not my girlfriend," mutters Clint, but he rises and joins Banner and Romanoff by the window.

Loki looks up from his ice cream, examining Tony carefully. "Doesn't your commander have eyes all over your house?"  
Tony raises an eyebrow. "So he does."  
"So... why hasn't he stopped you from taking me here?"  
"Because I set all the security footage on loop." Tony doesn't seem to care particularly that the action he describes is not allowed and possibly illegal. His tone is as careless as if he were simply being asked the time. No, scratch that. He probably would have made a bigger deal of the time.  
"Are you not worried about incurring his wrath?"  
"If he didn't want me to tamper he shouldn't have used my building."  
"An you are not worried that I might kill you all and destroy this place?" Loki can feel Steve tensing beside him, hearing the simple question as a threat.  
"Look," says Tony, allowing himself a moment of seriousness, "You've shown us you can best Cap and Legolas in a hand to hand fight. You've shown us you can blow up buildings. If you were going to kill us you would have done it already, you wouldn't even have had to blink." Technically inaccurate, but Loki doesn't correct his captor and defender. "My question is why haven't you?"  
There is a thought, but Loki quickly strikes it from his mind. It can't be true. He is a god. But it stays there, pulsing at the back of his mind, even as he gives Tony's question a dismissive answer. Even as they begin to walk back to Stark Tower, the thought still lurks in the recesses of his mind, waiting for something unknown, perhaps acknowledgment. The answer he will never say aloud.  
Because I needed you.

xxx

Tony follows Loki when they return, even as the other avengers disperse and make their ways up to their own rooms. Tony follows Loki up to his room and gets his foot in the door before Loki has a chance to close it behind him. "Hey."  
Loki raises an eyebrow at the billionaire, but opens the door wider again and let's him in.  
"Just because you needed ice cream doesn't mean you're getting out of answering my questions." He can see Loki considering an accusatory comeback, but for whatever reason the god refrains from being a royal pain in the ass for once.  
"Go on then."  
"You said you were dead in the eyes of Asgard. Why?"  
"Because Odin thinks me dead and Heimdall has no doubt done little to change his perception of things." Loki grinds his teeth together. "It's not as though he WANTS to give Thor hope."  
Tony frowns. "Give Thor hope of what? Okay, dumb question. Why do they think you're dead?"  
"Because Father sent me to my death," says Loki, giving Tony a look that conveys impatience not present in his voice.  
"Why?"  
"Because that's what the sentence was for my crimes." His voice is more taught now. Tony notes the fact that Loki is visibly showing his discomfort instead of throwing up walls. Or if he is throwing up walls, they are around something else.  
"How did you escape death row without being noticed?"  
"Who said anyone wanted to notice," mutters Loki under his breath.  
"What-"  
"Don't."  
"Don't what?"  
"Do not inquire further." His voice is full of forced calm.  
"Loki, I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to know-"  
"I finally gave my father a chance to get rid of the child he never wanted and he took it! Is that not enough?" he cries, looking up at Tony with angry eyes that hold back tears.  
Tony backs away a little at the outburst and holds up his hands. "Okay then, that sounds..." He runs his hand through his hair, making it if anything more messy than it already is. "Am I allowed to give you a thought? Without. You know. Having to become part of an awkward moment here?"  
Loki just stares at him, continuing to look as though he's been kicked.  
"Well. Just. Your family might be composed of dicks, but even so, somehow I don't think they want you dead."  
Loki is suddenly on his feet, standing so close Tony can feel his breath on his own face. "Get out, Stark. Do not presume to know what you cannot even comprehend."  
Tony stands his ground. "I know neglectful parenting a little better than you think. But you know what helps? Stepping out of your own shoes for thirty seconds and trying to see why. It doesn't make them any less of an ignorant bastard, but mayhem when we get down to it we're all ignorant bastards. Goodnight." With that he turned on his heel and left the room, unexpectedly angry over memories he would rather not have had resurface.

* * *

I'm gonna tell you that was a major point in the plot and you're going to have to believe me.


End file.
